Monday morning musing: German brewers’ woes

Paulander brewhouseI think I need to talk to New Glarus brewmaster Dan Carey, and finish a conversation started 11 years ago.

He was jet lagged but wired at the time, having just returned from Germany, where he bought a beautiful well-used and bargain-priced copper brewing system that would be the centerpiece of New Glarus expansion in 1997. He also looked a little sad. “We’re 50 years ahead of the Germans,” he said.

This wasn’t nationalistic boasting, a claim that American beer culture had surpassed Germany’s. This was history. He was speaking about how the number of breweries in Germany was (and still is) shrinking in the wake of consolidation. Something the United States went through during the last century.

I thought of this last week when reading stories about how German beer sales continue to shrink.

Is there an antidote? One story suggested, “Micro-Brewers Hope to Fight Sinking Beer Sales in Germany.”

What brewpub entrepreneur Oliver Lemke of Berlin has to say will sound familiar to American beer drinkers.

“There used to be 100 breweries in this neighborhood alone. They died out in the 1970s with the trend toward mono-breweries. The big breweries – for example Warsteiner or Licher – said: ‘We’re only going to make one sort of beer, a premium pilsner, and we’ll market it nationwide.’ And that inevitably leads to a dead-end. At some point, even the world’s biggest idiot notices that there’s virtually no difference between a Warsteiner and Licher.”

And also a little startling.

“The German beer drinker thinks he knows a lot about beer, but most of them know very, very, little.”

Perhaps they don’t know as much about beer as those deep into beer geekdom, but let’s be honest — they’ve still got a stronger beer culture. We talk about differences between the Northwest and the Northeast and argue about America’s best beer city (kind of silly if you let Portland, Oregon, participate). Well, they’ve got Köln and Munich and Bamberg, and scores of villages in in Franconia and . . . It is a different league.

Does that mean even more will be lost if the heartless consolidation continues? Or that the strength of the culture will keep German beer from tumbling into a monoculture as American beer did in the U.S. did during the twentieth century?

I’d like to take the optimistic view.

The Session #13 announced: Organic beer

The SessionThose of us just now emerging from a Session #12-induced fog were a bit surprised to see that the topic has already by set for Session #13.

For those of you good a math, #13 means we are heading into the second year of The Session. As we used to say in the Midwest, What a hoot.

Chris O’Brien at Beer Activist makes it simple for March if not necessarily as straightforward as it might look: Publish a post related to organic beer.

Lots of brewers use Certified Organic malt and/or hops but have not had their facilities and processes certified. Legally and in practical fact these beers are not organic and are prohibited from being marketed as organic. But for this Session, it’s up to you to decide what to count as organic.

So if you define organic as a beer that cures the hangover from a barley wine . . . go for it.

Session #12 wrap-up posted

Give beer bloggers an excuse to sit down with a barley wine or 20 and you see what happens . . .

Jon at the Brew Site has the roundup for The Session #12: Barley wine — 38 bloggers, 40 entries, over 64 beers reviewed as I type, with a few more likely to be spotted.

One suggestion: Make sure you have a barley wine in the house before you start reading. Otherwise you’ll be headed to the store before you get to Musings over a Pint (the third one up).

The Session #12: Lost Abbey Angel’s Share

The SessionNote: This is my contribution to The Session #12: Barleywine, hosted by Jon at The Brew Site. Head on over to see what everybody else is drinking.

“When nothing else subsists from the past, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered . . . the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls . . . bearing resiliently, on tiny and almost impalpable drops of their essence, the immense edifice of memory.”
– Marcel Proust

Scientists tell us aroma stimulations are hardwired into our memory processing center. That sounds a bit cold. I’d rather talk about Lost Abbey Angel’s Share.

When the glass is about six or eight inches from my nose it smells just like it did when I first had it at the 2006 Great American Beer Festival. A rich, complex blast of beer energy that made me pause as I started to lift the one-ounce serving to my lips. I can see brewer Tomme Arthur holding the bottle in his right hand, the recently removed cork in his left. He’s wearing a black Lost Abbey shirt, a “gotcha” smile on his face, his head particularly shiny.

Tomme ArthurA tableau that returned to my mind last spring when I read Michael Jackson’s working introduction to Beer-Eyewitness Companions and he wrote:

“Tomorrow’s classics will evolve from the currently embryonic American brews categorised by their admirers as Extreme Beers. These are the most intense-tasting beers ever produced anywhere in the world.”

I once again saw Arthur (at the right) holding that bottle. Now when I nose the beer I hear an echo of Jackson. These are the most intense-tasting beers ever produced anywhere in the world. I expect I always will.

I’d love to see his tasting notes on Angel’s Share, likely something I’d never think of. Dark dried fruit, vanilla, coconut, wood tannins, bourbon, maple syrup, brandy, caramel, toffee, molasses. We got all those flavors Wednesday evening, as well as impressions I don’t have ready adjectives for but that are firmly stamped in my memory.

We is Daria (my wife for those not regulars around here) and I. We spent going on two hours with the beer, chatting about travel plans much more than flavors. But each time we revisited Angel’s Share there was something new. It’s a contemplative beer, but you don’t have to spend all your time contemplating it.

Still, questions came to mind. And, via e-mail, Arthur had answers.

Just the facts

This batch released in November spent eight months in oak barrels that once held brandy. It’s 11.5% abv. The next batch will be one aged in bourbon barrels. Unlike the first two batches, sold in 750ml bottles, that one will be in 375s.

The base was brewed just for this project, but on its own is closer “to style” than many Lost Abbey beers. That style would be English barley wine (though a strong one even before the barrels boost the abv). It’s a reminder that it takes a great beer at the center for a barrel-aged beer to be great.

Now the soul

Which came first, the beer or the barrels?

“The Beer came first. The same base beer was used to create our Late Harvest 15th Anniversary Ale for Pizza Port Solana Beach in 2002. We have never served the base beer on its own although it is quite the little number even without the barrel aging. When we secured the brandy barrels, I had a feeling these flavors were more in line with what I was expecting back in 2002. In this way, the beer soars in a way the other could not. Although, I am very partial to the Late Harvest for its inclusion of grapes and barrel aging properties.”

Do you feel growing pressure with each release?

“I think in many ways, this is one beer that I am completely at peace with. It doesn’t require microbial dispositions and as long as we’re able to secure new oak for the aging on a regular basis, I feel confident in our ability to get this one in the bottle at the highest level with the flavors we’ve come to expect from this beer. There is a heightened sense of drama (per se) with each new consumer and their expectations of flavor towards this beer. It is the highest rated barley wine on Rate Beer right now and that brings with it a whole flooded fields worth of concern. This concern manifests itself in a ‘I sure hope I haven’t let the consumer down’ sort of way.”

Can a beer like this be too intense? Where’s the balance?

“I think that every beer has its breaking points. One of the reasons we went to the smaller format was to give consumers the opportunity to not have to consume large amounts of a sipping beer. For me, I don’t see this beer as being too intense. I think the balance is derived in flavor acquisition and maturation . . . ie when we start the uptake of brandy flavors from the wood and marry them to the sweetness of the beer, we see the maturation from oxidation and subtle integration of the nuances involved. In this way, we take a great beer and make it better as long as we don’t burden the beer and force it to walk in the shadow of the oak basis we’ve applied.”

These are the most intense-tasting beers ever produced anywhere in the world.

Stone six-pack prices going up today

Stone BrewingNow this is getting personal.

Stone XII will not be a hop bomb.

Kind of takes your breath away, doesn’t it? It gets worse. Ballast Point has quit bottling Dorado, one of the style-defining Double (some say Imperial) IPAs. A beer that a beer brewing chemist once described this way: “‘Savage’ flavor but not taste. Hoppy. Hoppy. Hop. Hop.”

Pete Rowe of the San Diego Union-Tribune (who consistently offers some of the best daily newspaper reporting on beer) gets down and dirty with what the hop shortage means in San Diego.

We knew higher beer prices were coming (and in some cases had already arrived). Rowe reports six-packs from Stone Brewing, most of which cost $7.99, will be marked up an additional $1 to $1.50 as of today.

The choice would be to change recipes, and to abandon Stone’s bold hop signature. Co-founder Greg Koch said that won’t be happening.

Koch insisted that the brewery’s regular lineup of beers, including Arrogant Bastard Ale, will remain as aggressively hopped as ever. But the Escondido brewery has been forced to make some changes.

Every summer, Stone issues an anniversary ale (the year marked by Roman numerals), a brew that typically reflects the company’s belief that hops are bitter and more hops are better.

Not this year. “That decision has been made for us,” Koch said. “It won’t be über-hoppy, as anniversary ales have been in the past.”

Rowe’s got more news from San Diego — hmmm . . . Pure Hoppiness — but also asks the elephant-in-the-room-question.

Will drinkers abandon Sierra Nevada, Green Flash, et al. for cheaper, mass-marketed beer?

Koch answers that question with a question.

“Or will they buy less? There are a lot of question marks out there.”